Aliyah Chronicles #7: Assertive Israelis

Israel is not always an easy place. But when it's good, it's really good.

Shana, the hospital midwife, told me in a stern voice to sit down. I was peeking into the hospital offices, hoping someone official would notice me and call my name. I'd been waiting 45 minutes to meet with the doctor to review my sonogram. A recent immigrant from America, I was five days overdue with my first Sabra.

"We will call you in when we're ready. We didn't forget about you," she glared at me as if I'd committed a crime, and then quickly ushered a laboring woman down the hallway to the delivery rooms. She supported the woman with her arms, and murmured softly in Hebrew.

I sat down, defeated and angry. I just wanted to know what was going on. There was no sign-in list, no electronic numbers to be called. Just a bunch of people sitting in a hospital waiting room without a particular order hoping to be called in to the doctor's office. How did they know who should be called first? I could be waiting all afternoon. Couldn't she at least speak to me in a soothing voice?

The last time I tried to be assertive, it took me 30 minutes to work up the courage to storm the doctor's office, and then -- the doctor yelled at me. "Please sit down and wait your turn!" But when is my turn?

Really Good

An hour after finally seeing the doctor and leaving the hospital, I returned to the maternity ward to find Shana. I made my way again to the inner offices, this time with fierce determination.

I could barely speak. Shana put her papers down and ran over to me. "Is everything okay?" she said looking me over and eyeing my husband balancing a suitcase and two bags. "I thought the doctor sent you home?"

"I think this is it," I mumbled between deep breaths.

She quickly grabbed hold of my arm and led me to her office.

"Great! How exciting!" She smiled at me as if I was her sister. She hurried a new mother out of a birthing room, and instructed the cleaners to quickly prepare the room. She stayed with me until the end of her shift, and then vowed to visit me the next day.

The next night, Shana came to see me.

"Mazal Tov! I heard it went well. You look great. Let me see her!" She chatted with me for ten minutes before returning to her post.

And that's when it struck me.

Whenever I really needed attention and help, there were no lines, no stern voices, no confusion, no waiting. I was the center of the world, a member of the family. There were no doubts.

The following week, my Israeli neighbor, Ronit, knocked on my door.

It was motzei Shabbat. I was sprawled out on the couch with my week-old baby stretched out in my arms. Playmobil pieces and legos were strewn across the tile floor, and the dining room table was covered with aluminum food tins and stray pieces of foil.

When she entered, I jumped up quickly and tried to clear the jackets and puzzles pieces off the easy chair, but she brushed me aside. She grabbed the jackets and hung them up. Then she surveyed the mess while asking me in Hebrew how I was feeling.

Moments later, her husband arrived with their three kids and a bottle of scotch. He had come to drink a l'Chaim with my husband on the birth of our new baby.

Ronit, noticing the dishes piled high in my two sinks, grabbed a sponge.

"No! No!" I pleaded, "I'll clean the dishes after I put the kids to sleep."

But she was already pouring the soap over the dishes. "I want to clean them," she insisted, scrubbing away. "It makes me happy to do this."

I appealed to her, "I have a lot of energy, thank God. I want to do the dishes. Really!"

But she glared at me as if to say, "Do you really think I believe that?!"

My husband was laughing in the living room, pouring another shot for our neighbor. I handed him the baby and ran back to the kitchen to put the dishes away.

"No, no. Sit down," my neighbor scolded me.

But how could I sit down while she cleaned the sticky gook off my dishes, pulled the peas and rice off the drain, and threw away the green bread that had been left out all week? It was a disgrace!

And then, as fast as she came, she left.

I looked around my sparkling kitchen, and was secretly glad my neighbor had ignored my pleas. My husband wiped a tear from his eye.

"What nice people," he mumbled softly.

"Yeah..." I concurred, enjoying the tranquility that comes with a clean kitchen. And in that moment, I decided that chaotic waiting rooms and long lines were not so bad after all. Indeed, I benefited greatly, and began to appreciate my onsite training in Israeli assertiveness.

In fact, with greater training, I could be more like Ronit, my neighbor -- a person that uses her assertiveness skills to do good deeds.

Israel is not always an easy place. But when it's good, it's really good. And that "good" is what makes life here very special.

Featured at Aish.com:

About the Author

Miriam (Tara) Eliwatt has an MFA in Playwriting from Columbia University. She has written and directed plays in the Jewish community as well as taught drama to elementary and high school-aged girls. She has performed most recently in the Regal Productions/Zir Chemed musical productions in Israel. She works as a freelance writer and editor.

The opinions expressed in the comment section are the personal views of the commenters. Comments are moderated, so please keep it civil.

Visitor Comments: 8

(8)
Bonnie,
March 15, 2009 12:06 AM

Wonderful!

Tara-
I so enjoyed your article and being updated on your life in Israel. A very good reminder of ahavas yisroel and the struggle to move beyond our own nature. I hope you keep writing and sharing your thoughts, as we can all benefit from your insights! Hatzlacha and miss you!

(7)
Kira,
March 12, 2009 9:59 AM

Mazel Tov!

Great insight - using assertiveness for good.
May your Sabras learn to do that, and grow up treating all Jews as "part of the family".

(6)
Shraga,
March 12, 2009 2:36 AM

We need more stories like this.

Life in Israel can be challenging. Thanks for showing us the need to see the other perspective.

(5)
Chaya K.,
March 11, 2009 3:09 PM

Good!!

Your last sentence is the best and very true!!
Thank you and mazal tov for the baby!!

(4)
lynn finson,
March 11, 2009 2:16 PM

You did it again!

Tara, you have really learned to view things with perspective. Your article is so real and so true to life. A pleasure to read and always with a message, that's what I like about you!

(3)
raye,
March 11, 2009 1:57 PM

I agree that special "good"dilutes the rough spots

Being a playwright like Tara, helps me over the rough spots that I still experience after four years since making Aliyah. It was my disenchantment with the academic world that made a playwright out of me. What a wonderful world it would be if everyone could iron out their rough spots by writing.

(2)
Joseph Wahba,
March 11, 2009 9:04 AM

Mazal Tov

Mazal Tov to you and your entire family. A very inspiring story.

(1)
Binny B.,
March 11, 2009 8:36 AM

Not only did it bring a tear to your husband's eye, it brought a tear to my eye! How fortunate you are to be able to SEE, and ENJOY such GOODNESS in Eretz Yisroel. Wishing you all the best for many more good, very good, and GREAT interactions with your fellow Israelis!

My Christian friends are always speaking about “faith.” To me this sounds a lot like blind faith. Is that really the essence of religion?

The Aish Rabbi Replies:

I'm afraid that this is another case of a Christian concept being mis-associated with Judaism.

Let's first define our terms. What is faith?

Webster defines faith as "Belief without proof."

What is knowledge? "An acquaintance with truth, facts or principles through study or investigation."

Faith is usually a product of desire. Have you ever gotten a tip on the market that guarantees you're going to triple your money in a month? A lot of smart people have gotten fleeced because they ignored the evidence and went with their feelings.

Knowledge, on the other hand, is based on evidence. We know there's a place called China because we have too many products in our house saying "made in China." There's a lot of evidence for the existence of China, even though most of us have never been there.

Judaism unequivocally comes down on the side of knowledge, not faith. In Deuteronomy 4:39, the Torah says: "You shall know this day, and understand it well in your heart, that the Almighty is God; in the heaven above and the earth below, there is none other." (This verse is also contained in the prayer, "Aleynu.")

This verse tells us that it is not enough to simply know in your head, intellectually, that God is the Controller of everything. You must know it in your heart! This knowledge is much more profound than an intellectual knowledge. God gave us a brain because he wants us to think rationally about the world, our role in it, and our relationship with God.

A conviction based on desire or feelings alone has no place in Judaism. The Hebrew word "emunah," which is often translated as faith, does not describe a conviction based on feelings or desire. It describes a conviction that is based on evidence.

Once this knowledge is internalized, it effects how a person lives. A person with this knowledge could transform every breathing moment into a mitzvah, for he would do everything for the sake of the heaven. But this is not a "knowledge," that comes easily. Only intensive Torah learning and doing mitzvahs can achieve this knowledge. Every word of Torah we learn moves us just a little bit closer to that goal. And everyone is capable of that.

To learn more, read "The Knowing Heart," by Rabbi Moshe Chaim Luzzatto (Feldheim.com). This entire book is an explanation of this verse!

In 350 BCE, the building of the second Holy Temple was completed in Jerusalem, as recorded in the biblical Book of Ezra (6:15). The re-building of the Temple had begun under Cyrus when the Persians first took over the Babylonian empire. The re-building was then interrupted for 18 years, and resumed with the blessing of Darius II, the Persian king whom is said to be the son of Esther. The Second Temple lacked much of the glory of the First Temple: There was no Ark of the Covenant, and the daily miracles and prophets were no longer part of the scenery. The Second Temple would stand for 420 years, before being destroyed by the Romans in 70 CE.

You shall know this day and consider it within your heart(Deuteronomy 4:39).

Business people who are involved in many transactions employ accountants to analyze their operations and to determine whether or not they are profitable. They may also seek the help of experts to determine which products are making money and which are losing. Such studies allow them to maximize their profits and minimize their losses. Without such data, they might be doing a great deal of business, but discover at the end of the year that their expenditures exceeded their earnings.

Sensible people give at least as much thought to the quality and achievement of their lives as they do to their businesses. Each asks himself, "Where am I going with my life? What am I doing that is of value? In what ways am I gaining and improving? And which practices should I increase, and which should I eliminate?"

Few people make such reckonings. Many of those that do, do so on their own, without consulting an expert's opinion. These same people would not think of being their own business analysts and accountants, and they readily pay large sums of money to engage highly qualified experts in these fields.

Jewish ethical works urge us to regularly undergo cheshbon hanefesh, a personal accounting. We would be foolish to approach this accounting of our very lives with any less seriousness than we do our business affairs. We should seek out the "spiritual C.P.A.s," those who have expertise in spiritual guidance, to help us in our analyses.

Today I shall...

look for competent guidance in doing a personal moral inventory and in planning my future.

With stories and insights,
Rabbi Twerski's new book Twerski on Machzor makes Rosh Hashanah prayers more meaningful. Click here to order...